


quiet (night) sky

by rivercurve



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Pining, almost vignette-style, can't forget that absolutely central tag, copious amounts of ocean imagery, i would describe the angst level as medium
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29508591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivercurve/pseuds/rivercurve
Summary: There are a lot of moments he could firmly pinpoint as "the moment". Maybe it’s the moment he and Jungwoo went out to dinner with Taeyong and Jaehyun and he spent the entire time looking at Jungwoo while he was flirting with their waitress. Maybe it’s the time they were getting ready to go to sleep in Saitama and Dongyoung was trying to finish his skincare routine when Jungwoo had tackled him from behind and applied his eye cream with a steady hand for him. Maybe it’s the time they were coming back to the dorms after a music show win and he’d followed Dongyoung back to his room and cried for five minutes straight.Maybe it’s a lot of things.//Whatever it is, Dongyoung is in love.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Jungwoo
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	quiet (night) sky

**Author's Note:**

> it's FINALLY HERE! 
> 
> i've been working on this fic since september, and the process of working on it has improved me a little, i think. big big BIG thank you to [rye](https://twitter.com/yujinsverse?lang=en) for beta'ing and bearing with me!!! mint was so great and kind about this whole thing <3333333 
> 
> kindly do not fact-check my timelines in this fic (the canon compliant tag is very loose)!! it was originally vaguely based off of the miami beach vlog 127 did, but since then it spiraled into something bigger than just that scene (but honestly my accuracy was always very *waves hand*)
> 
> last thing before you read is that i am uploading this at a very early morning time, so if i made any formatting mistakes i will go back and fix those in a couple of hours. and that's it!!

Looking at Jungwoo is like looking at the ocean. 

It is too early for them to be awake, but somehow they both are. Three in the morning and Jungwoo is on his back, scrolling through Naver aimlessly. The place where his lips meet is the place where the sea and the shore kiss. Sometimes, it feels like the only safe place to look; like all Dongyoung can do is stare and try not to run straight at it, lean in the extra two centimeters. 

Jungwoo passes over one of his AirPods and Dongyoung scoots over anyway. Their shoulders are pressed together; it feels like there’s a spark in his belly. 

“Ok?” Jungwoo whispers. His voice is soft; Johnny’s snores echo through the walls. His finger is hovering over a movie that shows a girl in a white sundress running into a green field. Her arms are outstretched and her mouth is open with laughter. Dongyoung nods. He does not kiss Jungwoo’s shoulder. 

Jungwoo starts the movie and makes a quiet pleased sound as it begins. Dongyoung drowns in silence in the bleary morning. 

***

There are a lot of moments he could firmly pinpoint as "the moment". Maybe it’s the moment he and Jungwoo went out to dinner with Taeyong and Jaehyun and he spent the entire time looking at Jungwoo while he was flirting with their waitress. Maybe it’s the time they were getting ready to go to sleep in Saitama and Dongyoung was trying to finish his skincare routine when Jungwoo had tackled him from behind and applied his eye cream with a steady hand for him. Maybe it’s the time they were coming back to the dorms after a music show win and he’d followed Dongyoung back to his room and cried for five minutes straight. 

Maybe it’s a lot of things. 

Whatever it is, Dongyoung is in love. He isn’t sure that everyone knows, but Jaehyun does because Dongyoung told him and Taeyong does because he’s perceptive like that. 

It’s not like it matters anyway, though, because he’s never going to tell Jungwoo and Jungwoo is never going to be in love with him like that. 

Jungwoo collects affection freely, but when people are deliberate, intentional, he gets flustered easily. He whines about compliments, grinning when they’re asked those interview questions about naming three good traits in other members, but Dongyoung is certain that if he ever looked Jungwoo in the eyes and said: _You are important to me. I love you. I want to hold you at midnight in fancy American hotels and blow off schedule to kiss you stupid in the mornings,_ Jungwoo would run in the other direction.

***

They’re in Miami, on tour, and Jungwoo looks sun kissed and gorgeous. The waves collect by his knees like they’re coming home. His bleach-blond hair is almost white in the sunlight. The cameramen are far too close. 

Dongyoung gets in the water, because that’s easier than staying by the shore and staring at Jungwoo while he whoops and throws out broken English phrases. They get beautiful sunset-colored drinks after the waves, and Jungwoo leans over the counter, gives the woman selling them his best, most boyish smile. She smiles at them, says something Dongyoung doesn’t understand, and Dongyoung wants to go back to the sea and pretend he isn’t looking. 

“Doyoung-hyung.” Jungwoo murmurs in his ear on the way back to the hotel, and he squirms. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s just that Jungwoo’s mango-scented breath in his ear sends goosebumps that he really doesn’t need up both arms. “Doyoung-hyuuuuuung.” He stretches the soft vowels out.

“Scoot back.” Dongyoung says, gives a little nervous laugh. He pushes a little bit at Jungwoo’s shoulders. “Everyone is watching you.” _Everyone_ means the staff and they both know it; neither of them would shy away from attention from beautiful sun-tanned Miami-goers, and especially not Jungwoo. 

“So what? I’m not doing anything wrong.” Jungwoo says with a shrug. He’s radiating easy charm and a devil-may-care attitude and this is so stupid and dangerous. Dongyoung hoists the selfie camera higher and he and Jungwoo flash matching peace signs. 

“Did you like the beach?” Dongyoung asks, letting the camera fall and Jungwoo’s face fucking lights up. Safe topic. 

“Miami.” He says. His voice is a little higher in English. “Miami Beach.” 

“Yeahhhhh Miami Beach!” Dongyoung says loudly, and Taeyong wanders over, sucking on his straw and looking at them curiously. Safe topic, safer ground. Dongyoung passes the camera off and leaves. 

***

“You keep avoiding me.” Jungwoo says when they’ve all piled back onto the tour bus and Dongyoung is doing his skincare routine for bed. “Why do you keep avoiding me?” 

“I’m not avoiding you.” Dongyoung says in what he thinks is a very convincing tone as he wipes the excess serum off of his hands. Donghyuck, who’s next to him using the same mirror, snorts loudly. 

“I’m going to sleep.” He says, closing the bottle he’s using. He isn’t going to sleep and all of them know it; he’ll probably go and huddle next to Taeyong for another hour until he gets tired. Sometimes Dongyoung wonders how Donghyuck acts when he’s with the younger ones, if he’s different as a hyung.

“Night, Donghyuck-ah.” Jungwoo says goodnaturedly. He turns back to Dongyoung. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not.” Dongyoung says. “Can you pass me the sheet mask?” It’s not really a question, but he needs something to do with his hands badly right now. The bathroom is not enormous and Jungwoo is still glowing and golden from the afternoon. 

Jungwoo frowns, but passes him the mask. 

Dongyoung puts it on and settles down to check Twitter. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jungwoo sigh and reach for the extra-strong oil cleanser that the dermatologist recommended. 

“You didn’t talk to me at all during dinner.” Jungwoo says. He doesn’t sound upset, exactly, just a little confused as he smears the cleanser all over his face and rubs hard. “I came over to sit next to you and you made up some excuse about—,” 

“I talked to you.” Dongyoung says quickly. It’s not that he can’t be around Jungwoo. That would be unbearably problematic. There are a thousand reasons he can’t make this into a Thing; there are a thousand and one that Jungwoo can never know about it. 

“Sure.” Jungwoo says with a snort. He sounds like Donghyuck now. “You talked to Mark and Mark talked to me, so you talked to me, is that it? What’s going on? Did I do something at the beach? They’ll cut whatever’s too suggestive to go on camera, you know that.” He squints at the array of bottles and selects the foam cleanser next.

“I was just tired.” Dongyoung says. That’s a lie, but he’s a better liar than Jungwoo at the end of the day. “We all have off-days. And we have to perform tomorrow. I’m saving energy.” 

“You seemed okay at the beach.” Jungwoo says, but his entire demeanor changes and he puts the foam cleanser down. “Hyung, do you need anything? Is there something I can do for you?” His eyes are big and his face is still coated in the oil cleanser and Dongyoung wants to tell him that he shouldn’t leave it on too long. He should wash it off. 

They’re caught like this, insects in agave. Jungwoo is taller, but not by much. Dongyoung still notices. He tries not to let his eyes flick down to the shoreline of Jungwoo’s mouth, lips slightly parted. Their bathroom is tiny and he can practically hear Yuta coming down the hallway to knock sleepily on the door and demand access.

“Just make sure to get your sleep.” Dongyoung says, more breathy than he’d meant to make it. Jungwoo’s eyes go a tiny bit wider and his tongue darts out to pass over his bottom lip, almost imperceptibly, but fuck, now Dongyoung is looking. He’s wearing a sheet mask and Jungwoo’s face is still covered in the stupid extra-strong oil based cleanser but he doesn’t care. They’re close enough in the tiny bathroom that he could lean across and knock his forehead against Jungwoo’s, knock their mouths together. 

Yuta knocks on the door three times and says “Dongyoung-ah, open up.” around a fantastically loud yawn. 

“Coming, hyung!” Dongyoung says, voice high like the tide when Jungwoo had waded in, all gold-white hair and blissed-out expression and jeans rolled up to his knees, showing the muscle of his calves. Looking like someone Dongyoung needed to be held by. 

Jungwoo’s expression is unreadable. He turns the faucet on and starts to wash off the cleanser. 

***

Here’s how he told Jaehyun. 

They had both been wine-drunk and a little bit weepy, back in Seoul. Mark and Donghyuck had been on some promotion with the Dream members so they weren’t in the dorms, and Taeyong was visiting a friend. Yuta, Taeil, and Johnny had played three rounds of Mario Kart before Yuta had grumbled something about it being rigged and gone to bed. Dongyoung and Jaehyun had already been drinking a little soju before and watching, because it was the weekend and the next day was their day off. 

They went to Dongyoung’s dorm with a bottle of wine, laughing a little because everything seemed funny. Jaehyun kept trying to articulate some joke about turtles, about how it worked in English but not in Korean and Dongyoung completely gave up trying to understand around the third time he explained it and drank a little more and stared up at the ceiling. 

Jungwoo came in eventually. It was out of worry. 

“Hi, hyungs.” He said, before stopping short. “Oh. Should I—,” 

“Jungwoo!” Jaehyun said, still trying to explain the turtle gag. “Don’t worry, I’ll be down in a bit. You can turn the lights off if you want to sleep now, I’ll figure things out.” 

“You can room with me.” Dongyoung joked and they both laughed loudly. He had a little more wine and felt warm and flushed and happy. This was when he made the mistake of looking at Jungwoo. 

Jungwoo was looking at him with an unbearable fondness in his large puppy eyes. The funniest thing about the situation was how sober he was compared to the two of them, how clean-cut, face washed clean of any traces of grime or sweat from the day. Dongyoung wanted to offer him wine, see how pretty his mouth would look stained red. He could pretend he had kissed it that way, maybe. Was that fucked up? 

“Jungwoo.” He said, a little petulantly and definitely in a way that signified that he was about to make a mistake. “Come here.” 

“Okay.” Jungwoo said, feigning reluctance, but he came, taking the wine glass out of Dongyoung’s hand and setting it on the side table carefully on top of a coaster. Dongyoung was overheating, probably, like the ocean during the hottest part of the afternoon. He wasn’t drunk—he was pretty sure of this—but he definitely wasn’t sober either. He reached for Jungwoo, missed his cheeks, and gripped his shoulders instead. Jungwoo looked like he was holding back laughter. 

Dongyoung was dimly aware that Jaehyun was watching him intently. Had he had more to drink than Jaehyun? He couldn’t quite think about it. Jungwoo raised a hand and took Dongyoung’s left hand off his shoulder, laced their fingers together tightly and squeezed, Dongyoung’s overheated sweaty palm against Jungwoo’s cool one. 

“This what you wanted, hyung?” He asked, voice a little too low to be unintentional. Dongyoung did not pick it up. 

Dongyoung thought: _no, it’s not what I want. What I want is to kiss you right now in front of Jaehyun and to keep kissing you until the end of my career. Or maybe my life. What I want is to get drunk with you and laugh with you about dumb things, things that don’t matter and never will, things like the fact that you don’t do your skincare routine half the time. What I want is for you to love me, but it’s really okay if you don’t because I love you so much anyway that it feels like everyone can see it._

Dongyoung said: “Yeah, Jungwoo-yah. It’s perfect.” And giggled in a way that made Jaehyun raise his eyebrows and look at Jungwoo. Jungwoo seemed satisfied by this answer, though, because he squeezed twice and then let go, the relief of cool leaving Dongyoung’s senses. He left for the bathroom, came back with a glass of water, and replaced the glass of wine on the coaster with the water. 

“That’s for tomorrow morning.” He said and it sounded strict even though Jaehyun and Dongyoung were older than he was. “Hyungs have to drink water. You’ll already be hungover.” He muttered this last part under his breath. 

“Thank you.” Jaehyun had said, clearly trying to be sincere, but it looked like he was about to start explaining the turtle joke again. Jungwoo had given him a big smile and had come over to get him a glass of water too, holding his hand to squeeze it twice before letting go. 

“I’m gonna go to bed now, hyung.” He said, looking at Jaehyun. “You should sleep here. I’ll get manager-nim to room with me tonight.”  
Dongyoung had tried to get some extremely clever quip out about how kind Jungwoo was but Jungwoo was gone with a familiar swish-click of the door closing. He stared at the place that Jungwoo had sat on his bed. It was not the first time he had sat there. 

“What the hell was _that_?” Jaehyun asked and now he was laughing instead of Dongyoung. “Dude, you looked at him like you were in love with him or something. You are _drunk_.” 

Dongyoung stared at Jaehyun. He didn’t know whether to feel horrified that someone else had picked up on it or relieved that he no longer had to keep it a complete secret. _Like you were in love with him or something._ That about summed it up. 

“I love him.” He said, and to his absolute horror he had started to cry. Taeyong wasn’t even there to hug him tightly and force him to drink water. It was just Dongyoung, mostly drunk and entirely too weepy, crying about something that he should not have even been in the first place. And Jaehyun, but the look Jaehyun was giving did not say that he was going to be very much help currently. 

“You—ok.” Jaehyun said. His eyes were wide. “Like, for real?” 

“For real!” Dongyoung wailed. He collapsed onto the bed on his back, scrubbing furiously at his face. “Jaehyun, Jaehyun what do I do. Oh my god, what do I do. If you could—,” 

“Dude.” Jaehyun said. He wrinkled his nose. “I’m just one person. I’m sure no one else could tell. Hyuckie would be all over that and Johnny-hyung—,”  
Dongyoung began to breathe. He was right. He was right. No one knew, because they couldn’t. 

“You’re not upset, are you?” He asked, voice still watery. Maybe this was the effect Jungwoo would always have on him; coaxing water to the surface, emotion through pure presence. 

“Why would I be upset?” Jaehyun asked, sounding genuinely confused even though Dongyoung could think of about ten reasons for him to be upset off the top of his head. He got up, a little unsteadily, and made his way over to Dongyoung’s bed slowly. “I’m not mad at you.” 

They were both overheated when they hugged, and normally Dongyoung wouldn’t go for this kind of thing while he was drunk. It was uncomfortable and squirmy and Jaehyun was bigger than him and therefore hotter. But it was nice to have someone else’s presence around him right now, and even nicer to know that that someone, for the first time, actually sort of understood him.

***

Jungwoo’s cheek is cushioned against his arm. He’s looking out the window, almost careless, and Dongyoung has one of his AirPods stuck haphazardly in his left ear. He can hear the deep sigh Jungwoo heaves as they drive out of Miami. 

It makes sense, really. The sea is his element, all blue-green water and sun-kissed sand. Children who run up and down the shores, and Jungwoo who watches them, a little awkward but still fond. He and Dongyoung had watched together as a little boy had approached Taeyong and scrunched up his nose and said something that neither of them understood in English. Mark immediately began cackling though, so he had assumed it was something funny. Jungwoo had tilted his head just slightly, watched the scene in front of them with a strange expression on his face. As though the little boy could’ve been his own little brother, asking his hyung some possibly obscene question in a language that felt foreign on his tongue. 

Dongyoung didn’t reach for his hand then, but it was a close thing. It would have been nice to pretend that they were ordinary people, for once.

They leave Miami. There are stormclouds on the sea of Jungwoo’s face, and rain beats down on the windshield of the tour bus. 

***

Performing makes them all something different. 

It isn’t better or worse. Different onstage and offstage, Taeil likes to remind them right before they go onto the stage, right before the lights start flashing and the people start screaming. Something different. Just a new way of looking at it. 

When they all come off, after the last song, Dongyoung peels off his Doyoung-suit and attacks his face with a makeup wipe. The euphoria still courses through his veins instead of blood, but it’s more subdued. The concert t-shirt gets folded neatly and put to the side. 

“Hi, hyung.” Jungwoo says to his right, leaning against the door. 

Dongyoung’s spine stiffens. 

“Hi, Jungwoo-yah.” He says softly, reaching for the soft cotton of the white t-shirt the staff have laid out for him and shrugging it over his shoulders. He can feel the beam of Jungwoo’s gaze on the bare skin of his back in the moment before he pulls the shirt over it, intense and inquisitive. When the silence becomes too much to bear, he turns around. 

“You took your makeup off already.” Jungwoo says, sounding a little surprised. He comes over to sit on the vanity, legs swinging back and forth. “Now they're less likely to shoot you for tonight.” Dongyoung notices that he’s still wearing all three layers of concealer, thick and pale. He wishes for the security of the bus, suddenly, a place they could be actually alone without the imminent threat of a camera. 

“That’s the point.” He says instead, flicking Jungwoo lightly in the center of his forehead, which earns him a scowl. “I’m tired. You kept yours on.” 

“Yeah.” Jungwoo says. “Hyungs were talking about going out for dinner. To celebrate.” 

“Ah.” Dongyoung says. He picks up the black concert shirt and heads for the door, trying to escape the conversation before it goes in the inevitable direction, but it’s too late. Jungwoo has already steered him directly into the path of the wave. 

“Are you going to come?” He asks. His face is still dewy with sweat and his eyes are bright with the high of performance and he’s holding Dongyoung’s forearm tightly. Dongyoung wants more from him than this. The words don’t spill out of his mouth, but they clog in his throat. I want, I want, I want. 

“Where are they going?” He asks and Jungwoo smiles.

***

They’re all at the restaurant—some place the managers had to rent out completely, that Johnny swore on—and Jaehyun keeps elbowing him pointedly and looking at Jungwoo. Dongyoung gave the beautiful black sweat-stained Neo City t-shirt to management and got in a van with Jungwoo and drove thirty minutes and it was one hundred percent worth it for this. For Donghyuck grinning something ferociously smug as he leans forward to steal the last piece of meat from Johnny’s plate and Taeil silently slipping in to replace it with a piece from his own. For Yuta draping his entire body over Mark’s back as the live singer smiles winningly, gazing up at her like she’s the center of the universe, but his hands are playing with Mark’s collar. 

For this. For Jaehyun pushing another plate in front of him. For Jungwoo smiling brilliantly at him and saying “Here, Dongyoung-hyung, try this next, it’s really good!” and loading it up with some sort of powdered sugar American thing. They broke out the soju a while ago and Dongyoung only had one bottle before he could already feel himself starting to lean into that dangerous territory of tipsy-loopy-light that had gotten him in trouble all those months ago with Jaehyun. 

Eventually, they’re pairing off to go home in cars. Dongyoung feels so full of food and heat and the post-euphoria concert high that he doesn’t really care who he goes with, honestly. He reaches forward for Jaehyun, but Jaehyun and Johnny are talking in rapid English and eventually Jaehyun looks at him, beaming. 

“Good news!” He says. “Me and Johnny are going together.” 

“But you were going with me!” Dongyoung says, pouting furiously. “Jaehyun-ah, you promised you’d go with—,” 

“You’re going with Jungwoo.” Johnny interrupts and Jungwoo’s head snaps up from where he’s rock-paper-scissoring Donghyuck for car choice. “Have fun. He’s pretty sober. It’ll do you some good.” 

“I only had a little!” Dongyoung protests. It’s true; he doesn’t even feel very drunk, just a little bit loopy and a lot in love. And ready to get off his feet. He reaches for Jaehyun again, because Jaehyun is a supportive best friend who— 

Like a traitor, Jaehyun steps back. Dongyoung nearly trips over his own feet and is in the process of falling face-first into the scratchy neutral carpet of the floor when Jungwoo catches him gently, arms wrapping around his torso in the most careful hug Dongyoung has ever experienced. It wraps him in warm salt water from the inside, Jungwoo’s arms steadily keeping him afloat. 

“Shh.” Jungwoo says in his ear, probably only half-teasing. Probably. “I’m taking you home tonight, Dongyoung-ah.” 

“You should speak formally to me.” Dongyoung tries to protest. “I’m older than you.” But something sticks in his tongue and throat, and nothing comes out, which only makes Jungwoo giggle more, as though he’s the one who’s had alcohol (he probably has, when Dongyoung was busy laughing at Donghyuck and Mark). The sound reverberates. Dongyoung wants to turn around in his arms and kiss him dumb, kiss him till he can’t remember how to sing any of his parts on tour for tomorrow. 

“Into the car.” Jungwoo tells him, and somehow they make it into the car. The backseat is long. They end up with Jungwoo sitting up, Dongyoung’s head in his lap. It’s warm, and he kind of wants to push aside the thin material of Jungwoo’s shorts and bite at his thighs shamelessly. That would definitely be too much, though. He stuffs the thoughts underneath the seat cushion and looks Jungwoo in the eyes. 

“You know.” Jungwoo tells him. “You’re going to be so hungover tomorrow.” He looks in front of him at the driver, a little reminder to himself that they aren’t truly alone. 

“I only had a little! A bottle!" Dongyoung protests, sitting up too quickly. “I’m not drunk!” 

“Mhm.” Jungwoo says. He’s holding back a smile as he pushes Dongyoung’s head back down, begins to card his fingers through Dongyoung’s hair rhythmically. It feels nice enough that Dongyoung lets himself be lulled by the motions. 

“I’m really not.” He says. There’s a moment of silence, and then. “I just really love you guys.” 

“Mhm.” Jungwoo says again, but now he's grinning. A moment passes before he sighs. “I love you guys too. You’re like my family. Hyungs are like my brothers. Mark and Donghyuck too.”

“Before us, there was U, though.” Dongyoung says. He reaches up to poke Jungwoo’s cheek. “Act cute for me.” 

“All of a sudden?” Jungwoo asks, but his eyes are sparkling with the challenge. He’s competitive, Dongyoung thinks fondly. 

“I just wanna see.” He says. Call him tipsy, then. Maybe not entirely drunk. Alcohol is at least half water, and he feels it in his heart, his stomach, the tips of his fingers when he pokes Jungwoo again. 

Jungwoo opens his eyes really big, brings his hands up to frame his face cutely in a flower pose, and says “Before you, there was U, but U still had you, hyung-ah!” while his lips stick out just slightly. He tilts his head to the side, voice high and bright, aegyo in his smile and nose and eyes, and Dongyoung is fucking enamored—at the sickening effort, if nothing else—even if he doesn’t understand anything Jungwoo just said. He bursts out laughing instead, tries not to think too much about what it means beneath the sticky-sweet of Jungwoo’s charm. 

“Jungwoo-yah.” He says, hiccuping a little and folding over, almost sitting up. The car jerks to a stop and Jungwoo purses his lips, holding the flower pose.

“Good enough?” He asks. There’s something smug in his voice which makes Dongyoung laugh even harder. He wants to poke at Jungwoo’s cheeks again but this will likely earn him a frown so he keeps his hands where they are. 

“Perfect.” He says. Jungwoo’s careful, cool fingers drop from his own face to brush through Dongyoung’s bangs, push them back, curl all the way to the curve of his ear before circling back. He’s never been more in love; it feels like his entire body is singing high C’s, aching with the pull of the moon.

“Mm, okay.” Jungwoo says, voice a little quieter and a lot less saccharine. He lingers around Dongyoung’s forehead, the space between his eyebrows, and presses down just slightly. “I’ll wake you back up when we get to the hotel, okay, hyung?” 

Dongyoung thinks he says something else, but he’s too busy slipping under the tide of sleep to quite catch it. The sound is low in his ears, a soft lullaby singing him under. Siren song. 

***

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Taeyong asks. They’re both seated firmly in front of one of the flatscreens and Dongyoung is trying to whip his ass at Mario Kart, but Taeyong is tricky and keeps darting just out of his reach with the new controls. Dongyoung almost doesn’t realize what he’s saying. 

“Talk about what?” He asks, and uses his last power-up to propel himself into his second lap. Taeyong is a safe distance away but on the split screen his finger hovers over the power-up button. 

“Comeback.” Taeyong says. “Diet. Chuseok. Your mom. Jungwoo. Anything.” This last one is snuck in, but Dongyoung doesn’t miss it. Taeyong looks at him with piercing eyes that have seen a thousand things go into the sea. Rookie idol groups and Dongyoung’s diet and Mark’s sleep schedule. 

“Not really.” Dongyoung says carefully. It’s a lie and they both know it. Taeyong gives him a little strung-out shrug and they select Rainbow Road for their next round, because Taeyong likes to torture him. Maybe, he thinks, it will be easier to talk about it if they aren’t actually facing each other. Maybe he can spill everything that’s been knocking around in his ribs since comeback if he doesn’t have to look Taeyong in the eyes. 

“On tour.” He says casually. “Jungwoo and I.” 

“Did you mess around?” Taeyong says, but he says it in a way that manages to be almost gentle, a blunt question asked in a soft way. It’s a cushion. Dongyoung’s face flushes, but he senses that the answer is supposed to be yes. 

He forces his mind abruptly away from it, from thinking of Jungwoo’s hands on his hips and shoulders and Jungwoo’s mouth on his, kissing him gently on his mouth and a little harder, a little more insistent along his jaw. Jungwoo’s breath on his neck, saying _hyung, look at me_ the same way he did in the tour bus—

Taeyong blue-shells him and he buries his head in his hands. 

“It’s okay.” Taeyong misinterprets his silence perfectly, pausing the game with one smooth motion. He rubs a hand up and down Dongyoung’s back in soothing, smooth motions. “We’ve all done it, it’s okay. Johnny-hyung and Taeil-hyung, they—,” 

“We didn’t.” Dongyoung says, muffled. It would be easier, arguably, to say that they did, to lie and let Taeyong draw his own conclusions. “We didn’t, he doesn’t—not like that.” 

Taeyong studies him for a long moment before he drops the controller completely and envelopes Dongyoung in a hug. It smells like something woodsy and delicate, so familiar and comforting that Dongyoung feels like he could cry all over again. He clings to Taeyong’s arms. 

“You know.” Taeyong tells him as they rock back and forth. “My mom went to America for Christmas. She said it was so sunny there and everyone was _so excited_ or _so happy_. So enthusiastic. So much energy.” He wrinkles his nose. 

“Yeah?” Doyoung asks and he’s relieved to hear his voice a little more steady. “Did she bring you anything back?”

Taeyong’s voice becomes a steady murmur and Dongyoung holds tight to his arms as he speaks. It feels good, now, to let himself be held and hear the story of how Taeyong’s mother almost missed her flight because she was too busy trying to get a new cologne for his father. It feels good, later, to let Taeyong cook for him, talking about the new move they have to perfect. It feels good to go back to his bedroom at the end of the day, laughing, and not think about Jungwoo anymore. 

***

It all comes to a close at the same place it started that night with Jaehyun, in his bedroom. He’s sitting on his bed and internet-shopping—Johnny’s idea, but not a bad one—when the door creaks open and a familiar voice filters through the air lowly. 

“Hyung,” Jungwoo says, tilting his head to the side. “Do you want to come with me?” 

Dongyoung tilts his head upwards. “Where’re you going?” He asks curiously. Jungwoo, for all his seeming thoughtlessness, does things with purpose most of the time. Leaving on a Thursday night for someplace is likely the result of several days of careful planning. His eyes are filled with nerves, too, and it makes Dongyoung even more interested. 

“Just the pool downstairs.” Jungwoo says. His fingers are tapping a restless staccato pattern against the door jamb and Dongyoung wants to reach out and steady them. “Haechannie’s busy and Taeil already went to sleep.” 

“Okay.” Dongyoung says after a long moment. He isn’t doing anything else tonight, and it isn’t like he’s practicing himself half to death like some of their other members. There’s a part of his brain that wants to go to Taeyong’s room and beg for distraction, but he stamps it down when Jungwoo is looking at him like that. His fingers are still restless. 

Dongyoung gets up off the bed. “Five minutes.” He tells Jungwoo, and watches as Jungwoo’s face lights up. 

The elevator is quiet on the way down. Jungwoo is wearing a mask and sweatpants, looking for all the world like he just rolled out of bed. Dongyoung gives him an amused look and spends the long elevator ride down scrolling through Twitter until the ding sounds and Jungwoo yawns, fantastically big, and moves forward to get out. 

The pool in their building is usually empty at this time of night, so it’s a safe bet that they’ll be alone. Sure enough when Dongyoung pushes the big door open, the pool is completely deserted, illuminated by fluorescent blue lights and neatly folded towels on the chairs. Jungwoo grins at him and goes to set his oversized, puffy jacket down before he sets to work rolling the legs of his sweatpants up. 

Dongyoung goes to slide his phone into one of the pockets of Jungwoo’s coat and slide off his socks—he’s fairly sure Jungwoo won’t notice, anyway—before going to the edge to sink his feet into the warm water. One of the nice things about these pools is that they’re heated, always warm, always welcoming. More than once, he’s come down here with Jaehyun after a long weekend and they’ve just floated in the water, staring at the high ceilings, Dongyoung feeling mildly out of his body. 

“Hi.” Jungwoo says, coming over to sit next to him, dipping his legs into the water up to his knees. His sweatpants are bunched up comically by his thighs and Dongyoung snorts at the sight. 

“Hi.” He says in return. Tugs the hem of one of his pant legs up further and lets his left leg fall into the water a little more. Jungwoo watches it with him. 

“You know,” Jungwoo says thoughtfully. “On tour. You remember when you asked me to act cute for you?” 

“We asked you to do that a bunch of times.” Dongyoung says. Usually it had been on camera, Mark groaning _Jungwoo-hyung_ and Taeil cackling madly while Jungwoo’s voice had raised three decibels and he had done some sort of sickening routine for the eye of the camera. “Remember in Toronto? We—,” 

“ _Not that time._ ” Jungwoo says but it sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. Dongyoung fights the urge to put his head on his shoulder. It would be so easy. They’re so close. “When we were just out of Miami. Dallas. Do you remember?” 

Dongyoung squints. The tour was a blur of names and performances and cameras and somehow he remembers all of it and none of it at once. He remembers they went out for drinks in Dallas, didn’t they? 

“Didn't we go drinking?” He asks and Jungwoo looks delighted. 

“Yeah.” He says. “You and I went back to the hotel together. You weren’t drunk but it was still funny. You asked me to act cute.” 

“Ah, I don’t remember that.” Dongyoung says, turning his gaze back to the still surface of the pool, but it maybe-probably-definitely happened. He asks Jungwoo a lot of stupid things when he’s had a little alcohol. The Jaehyun-in-his-mind says come on, man in a voice that sounds half-pitying and half-exasperated. 

“Mmm.” Jungwoo says in a voice that says he definitely does not believe this. “You remember what I said?” 

“I don’t even remember asking you.” Dongyoung says. “What do you think?” His stomach is clenching nervously and the steam coming from the water is an excellent excuse for the redness in his cheeks right now. 

“Huh.” Jungwoo says. He inhales a little and then says, abruptly, “I’m not gonna do it again.” 

Dongyoung stares at him. “Pardon?” He says faintly. He feels like this isn’t actually planet earth, this is another dimension he’s entered on accident. 

“It was stupid.” Jungwoo says. He’s not looking at Dongyoung’s face, but this gives Dongyoung an excellent view of his ears, which are turning the same color red as his cheeks. “And I don’t think you even got it, so it didn’t mean anything.” 

“Jungwoo, what did you say?” Dongyoung asks, because he’s getting seriously worried now. “Are you okay? Do you need help? You should’ve told Taeyong about this if something was really bothering you—I mean, you can always come to me, but if you need to, to take a break or a day off or something—,” 

“Oh my God.” Jungwoo says a little disbelievingly and then he’s leaning forward and then Dongyoung’s brain has shut off because they’re kissing with the warm chlorinated pool water lapping at his ankles. 

It’s not a good kiss, mostly because Dongyoung is wholly unprepared. His mouth is half open and he had been in the middle of a sentence so his words all get jumbled and squished into a forceful _mmph!_ before it registers that this is Jungwoo, this is Jungwoo’s mouth on his mouth, this is the full saltwater force of Jungwoo against him, and his brain just completely leaves him. 

Jungwoo draws back quickly, caution in his eyes. He’s never looked more beautiful than now, Dongyoung thinks, cheekbones painted blue by the artificial lights, legs wet and wavy-looking in the pool. 

“You.” Dongyoung says. He clears his throat a little. “You.” 

“Did you not want that?” Jungwoo asks, and there’s clearly an apology ready at the back of his throat. He does not say anything else. Dongyoung’s mouth feels bone-dry. 

He says, “I. Yes.” 

There’s a pause where they both look at each other and then Dongyoung regains the use of his cranial functions and remembers that the windows in the pool are glass and anybody could have seen that. When he whips his head around to look though, there is no waiting camera shutter, no spectator peering in. They are truly alone. 

Jungwoo catches on instantly. 

“Let’s go upstairs.” He says. “We can go to your room.” 

They get out of the pool, and Dongyoung rolls his socks back onto his wet feet and feets the water from mid-calf drip down into the material, effectively soaking them. It feels like the least important thing in the world right now. Jungwoo slips on his coat and pulls up his mask and they leave the pool quickly, quietly, Dongyoung leading. 

***

They close the door to Dongyoung’s room and Dongyoung slumps against it, both hands behind his back. He feels extremely out of his body. Jungwoo is standing in front of him, hands a little nervous but otherwise the semi-permanent smile that’s been on his face since the pool lingers. 

“Hyung,” He says, breathy, and Dongyoung’s knees are weak things, for all he dances. He drags himself away from the door and goes to sit on his bed, knees curled up to his chest on the headboard. “Hey, hey, hold on.” 

“I’m just sitting down.” Dongyoung says. He can hear how his voice comes out a little higher than normal and Jungwoo must hear it because he lets out a tiny sigh and stays where he is, by the door. 

“If you don’t want it, you really should tell me.” He says, a little dejected, and shit. To look at him is a mistake, his soft features and pursed lips and nervous fingers put to rest by something worse than nerves.

“Jungwoo-yah, it’s not—not bad.” Dongyoung says, but Jungwoo’s words make his heart hopeful. He tugs his knees a little closer. “I just want to talk.” 

“What is there to talk about?” Jungwoo says and it seems so simple when he says it like that. Like there doesn’t have to be anything except for them. “I kissed you and you wanted it. And I wanted it. Why does it have to be any more complicated than that?” There’s a question in his eyes, giving Dongyoung an out, a chance to say: _actually, I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to make a scene in the pool. I want to date pretty idol girls in front of flashing cameras and let things be easy._

He does not say any of this. 

“Come here?” He asks instead and frowns at the way it sounds like a question but Jungwoo comes forward so easily that maybe it didn’t matter after all. He sits at the foot of Dongyoung’s bed and looks at him head on. “I did want it. I swear. I’ve actually wanted to do that since—well, for a long time.” 

Jungwoo tilts his head, puppy-like, and Dongyoung wants to stop talking and touch his cheeks and kiss him again. He fights this impulse, though, because they have got to talk about this, goddammit. 

“You really want me?” He asks. It comes out more like a question than a statement and Jungwoo huffs loudly and scoots forward an extra inch. 

“Yes.” He says and Dongyoung is giddy. He’s smiling and giddy and full of hope. 

So maybe Jungwoo’s need for affection goes both ways too; a need to give it, to reach out to Dongyoung in return. A need to meet him halfway. 

“It was out in the open.” He says instead. “Anyone could have seen. Anyone _could_ see.” 

“I know.” Jungwoo says and he inches forward a little more, until he’s right up in front of Dongyoung. “I know. We’ll be careful. Not down there again. I didn’t even _mean_ to do it down there, honestly, and I meant to ask you, and—but I like you and I want to kiss you some more and it’s not—,” He cuts off with a frustrated sound. “Hyung, it isn’t complicated. I just want you.” 

Dongyoung stares at him for a long moment and this, this is exactly the opposite of what he expected. Jungwoo’s eyes are dead serious in that way that he gets when he’s honest about competition and food and aegyo battles on variety shows. His nose is scrunched up. He’s bared his entire heart. 

“Me too.” Dongyoung says. And maybe it doesn’t have to be complicated at all, really. Maybe it can just be this, them, here, Dongyoung and Jungwoo, both perched on different ends of Dongyoung’s bed. The air purifier is loud; Dongyoung’s heartbeat seems infinitely louder. “Can I kiss you?” He asks, because it’s become such a constant ache at this point that voicing it seems thrilling. Something secret. 

“ _Yes._ ” Jungwoo says with a laugh and he bridges the last of the distance between them as Dongyoung uncurls himself, stretches his legs out so Jungwoo can slide in between them neatly. He cups Jungwoo’s face with one hand, reaches out so tentatively. It feels unreal, to be touching him this way. He’s been tackled and hugged and even kissed by Jungwoo before, but this is deliberate, intentional. This is the moment before impact, before the ocean swallows you whole, and then he thinks _fuck it_ and leans in the last few centimeters. 

Jungwoo’s mouth is soft from the chapstick and balms and thousand other things that they use to make it shine on Music Bank. He stays perfectly still for a moment and then Dongyoung draws back just a little, breathes against his mouth, and he’s chasing the kiss. They meet again in the middle, a ripple of motion, Dongyoung’s other hand coming up to clutch at Jungwoo’s shoulder and Jungwoo’s hands gripping his hips like he’s dying. They kiss like it’s the only time they’ll ever get to, like this is a bubble. Jungwoo is skilled with his mouth, tongue darting out to lick inside Dongyoung’s mouth and Dongyoung wonders, dazed, who else he has been kissing. Who else he has been doing this to. 

“How many times have you done this?” He gasps when Jungwoo draws back to press a kiss to his jaw. 

“Not a lot.” Jungwoo says into the hinge of Dongyoung’s jaw, the space behind his ear and it’s a mumbled confession before he goes still. “Just a couple times as a trainee. Once I debuted it got—harder. Hyung—,” 

“Yeah.” Dongyoung murmurs and he noses at the curve of one cheek for a couple seconds, takes his time on the way back to Jungwoo’s careful, clever mouth. “Yeah, come here.” This time it isn’t a question. 

The willingness with which Jungwoo goes is dizzying. All those months ago, on tour, he had thought that if he had said these kinds of things it would have made Jungwoo back away, squint away from the reflection of his feelings against the sea that is Jungwoo. But now, Jungwoo absorbs it, presses forward, wraps his arms around Dongyoung’s neck and laughs before ducking his head and kissing Dongyoung hard. His mouth is slick from their earlier kisses and if Dongyoung presses forward extra hard, so that they’re intertwined, he imagines that he can taste the chlorine from the pool on Jungwoo’s tongue. As though they had both been soaked to the bone. As though they had been able to do this downstairs. 

They fall backwards onto the bed and Jungwoo’s mouth is everywhere all at once; soft along the bridge of his nose, dusting lightly across his still-closed eyelids, and then always back to his mouth, lips still parted. Dongyoung can only hold onto him and lean forward and breathe in the scent of him, clean from the shower he must have taken earlier. 

“Hey.” He says, more than a little breathless, and Jungwoo’s head snaps up. "I really—I really like you a lot."

And on some level, he wants to hear it back, wants to empty his heart into the room, if Jungwoo will take it, all that gushing emotion. But more than that he wants to feel him quiet, constant, true. He wants to know that Jungwoo is there, that he’s staying, that he cares. That he possesses some quantity of the same emotion in his chest that Dongyoung has harbored for months. 

Jungwoo seems to catch what he’s saying, and his cheeks go the prettiest shade of red Dongyoung’s ever seen. He reaches up fingertips to touch Dongyoung’s cheeks delicately, so gently.

“Hey.” He says. “Me too, hyung, I really like you too. In every way, all the time. I know I didn't say it before, but I do.” There is no aegyo here, no camera eye that Dongyoung has to step into a suit and amputate a consonant from his name for. It’s just them and Jungwoo’s voice is painfully raw with honesty. 

“Me too.” Dongyoung tells him softly and he reaches for Jungwoo’s hand, squeezes it with a promise. _I’m here._

Jungwoo mumbles something completely indistinguishable after this before leaning forward to bury his face into Dongyoung’s sweatshirt, wrapping his arms around him like some sort of clingy octopus until Dongyoung is warm and surrounded and filled with saltwater love. He's so still. So present.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated.” He says into Dongyoung’s sweater, breath hot on his chest, and Dongyoung thinks, abruptly, that he’s right. It doesn’t have to be complicated.

It just has to be them. 

***

The evening air is warm and bright and Jaehyun peers at him. They’re both sitting cross-legged on Yuta’s balcony, where Yuta had been too before he abandoned them in favor of looking for Mark. The original intention of the balcony had been to stargaze, but Yuta had been the only one with the app on his phone and the both of them are too lazy to download it. 

“Did you work things out?” Jaehyun asks. The stars wink impassively. “After tour, I mean.”

“Yeah.” Dongyoung says from where he’s curled a little uncomfortably now in the chair. “I worked it out.” 

“Good.” Jaehyun says. The wind ruffles his hair, which is getting too long, and Dongyoung wants to crawl across the space and into his lap and hug him till he can’t breathe. Maybe they should have dragged Yuta back, just so Dongyoung could hug him too. “I was a little worried.” 

“Just a little?” Dongyoung teases and Jaehyun rolls his eyes and says something under his breath that sounds fond, so Dongyoung lets it slide. 

“Hyungs!” A voice calls from the entrance to Yuta’s bedroom and Dongyoung spins around to find Jungwoo standing there, a smile on his face. He’s watching them both carefully, a white t-shirt over sweatpants, and Dongyoung can feel his own face stretching into a smile. It’s a scene that is somehow familiar but feels remarkably new. 

“Coming!” He calls back, and turns to Jaehyun. “You coming?” 

Jaehyun watches him with a funny, fond expression. “Nah.” He says. “You go ahead. I’m gonna stay out here a little longer. Full moon!” 

Dongyoung reaches out and tangles their fingers together and squeezes, hard, until Jaehyun gives a little oof and falls back in the chair. He slips around him easily, feeling Jaehyun’s eyes follow him but not really caring as soon as he gets within touching range of Jungwoo. 

“Took you long enough.” Jungwoo says, trying to school his expression to seem like he’s bothered, and Dongyoung can’t even bring himself to care. The full moon is imprinted in his irises and Jungwoo is holding his hands now, trying to hold back his smile, so familiar and yet so new. After this they’re going to go back to Jungwoo and Jaehyun’s room and Jungwoo is going to hold him until they fall asleep. In the morning, Dongyoung will wake them both up a little early and they’ll sneak around Jaehyun and maybe kiss a little—or fool around a little—in Dongyoung’s bathroom, and then they’ll go to schedule. It will be a good day. Jungwoo’s hands are holding his, and really, how could it be a bad one as long as this is happening. 

“Sure.” He agrees easily, and leans forward to kiss Jungwoo’s cheek. “Let’s go back, Jungwoo-yah.” 

Hands tangled together, they leave Jaehyun and the stars on the balcony. Jungwoo’s eyes are bright with something like love.

**Author's Note:**

> the process of writing this felt like such a mess at times BUT what a great mess!!! i'm quite proud of how this turned out, and how my process transformed until the end while writing it!! i hope it was worth the wait, especially as i...am still not putting much out these days. life is wild!! truthfully, i thought i would have more to say about this fic, but that was a lot like the process of writing it; it's good for what it is and that's ok!!
> 
> please leave me a kudos (!!!) or a comment (!!!!!) if you enjoyed this fic!! i love hearing what people think about things i write!! 
> 
> aaaaaand finally you can always find me on [twt](https://twitter.com/rivercurve) or on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/rivercurve)!! i'm a bit slow on cc but i can guarantee you that if you send me something i'll look at it and i'll respond to you!! 
> 
> title is adapted from two mitski songs that i looped while writing this and also means that i am cursed to never write an nct fic without parentheses in the title


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